A/N: I believe a couple other people have posted these. In any event, these are 100 word stories which I wrote in response to a challenge on the ID forum. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.
*~**~*
Complete
Miroku was a wreck, tired and worn, his muscles sore from maintaining the serene façade he cultivated. The others sensed his tension, and let him be. How could they know what it felt like to find one's self faced with the day they had alternately dreaded and hoped would come? The day he'd been waiting for since he first learned the nature of his curse?
Kagome appeared from the door to Kaede's hut, and offered the monk a supportive smile.
"How does it feel to be a father?" she asked, stepping aside for him.
*~**~*
Gift
Inuyasha wasn't sure what woke him at first. He was normally a light sleeper--his childhood and his genes had conspired against him ever getting that eight hours Kagome swore by. He blinked, sitting up straighter to see his surroundings.
Where was Kagome? Though he'd never admit it aloud, he was worried about her. Since Naraku had been defeated, she seemed. . . different. More withdrawn from her friends here.
Where was she?
Then he noticed what had woke him. His hand went to his throat, hoping he was wrong.
The beads were gone. She took them with her when she left.
*~**~*
Heads or Tails
Her eyes? Beautiful. Amazing. A man could live in those eyes, would she only turn them on him with hope or compassion, or, dare I suggest, love. I think her eyes are my favorite part of her whole sublime body.
But wait, what about her lips? True, they frown more often that they ought, but they are the most perfect lips when she smiles.
Split the difference then, and say her face is my favorite.
Yet my eyes fall to her swaying hips.
"Houshi-sama, where are you looking?!"
Her fist is certainly my least favorite part.
*~**~*
Stained
Inuyasha's gaze lingered on his hands. They weren't human hands. They were slimmer than most men's, the long fingers terminating in wicked claws. He had torn apart demons with them to defend himself and his friends, or to reclaim the shards of the Shikon Jewel. He had killed with his hands, until the blood seemed to seep into every pore, staining them with its fatal stink.
He wasn't sure that they ought to be allowed to touch something so precious, or so breakable.
The infant snuggled closer to her mother's breast, making a fist of her own tiny, clawed hands.
*~**~*
Downfall
This new human era. . . tired him. The grey miles of cities stretching out to forever, connected by a vast wed of concrete. It hurt his eyes. It filled his ears with the constant roar of machines. It burned his nose with the smell of ash and poison.
Once he had been the great Sesshomaru, but somewhere along the line, he had lost his drive, his spite, and in the end even the pride, which had sustained him through two centuries or more, gave out.
It was odd to think that his half-brother would outlive him.
*~**~*
A Mother's Love
Inuyasha was sleeping. Finally. Hatsuyo smiled at the sight of her baby: his scrunched, tiny face, soft body, and miniature hands and feet, with the proper number of digits apiece. She'd been worried at first when he hadn't opened his eyes to greet her, but Inutaisho had explained it was the way of Inuyoukai. She expected them to open any day. Folded flat against his skull was a pair of soft puppy ears, almost lost in his downy fringe of hair.
She felt her smile quiver and tears stung her eyes. Why couldn't anyone else see that he was perfect?
*~**~*
As You Are
Kagome looked down at her hands. They were not the firm, smooth hands of youth. Instead they were worn, rough hands, toughened with an archer's calluses and life. They were the hands of a strong, middle-aged woman.
Looking up, she sought the still young face of her hanyou lover and asked, "Why do you stay with me? I look old enough to be your mother."
"Why didn't you let me become human for you?" he asked by way of a reply.
"Because I love you the way you are," Kagome answered without hesitation.
"Same reason."
*~**~*
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.
*~**~*
Complete
Miroku was a wreck, tired and worn, his muscles sore from maintaining the serene façade he cultivated. The others sensed his tension, and let him be. How could they know what it felt like to find one's self faced with the day they had alternately dreaded and hoped would come? The day he'd been waiting for since he first learned the nature of his curse?
Kagome appeared from the door to Kaede's hut, and offered the monk a supportive smile.
"How does it feel to be a father?" she asked, stepping aside for him.
*~**~*
Gift
Inuyasha wasn't sure what woke him at first. He was normally a light sleeper--his childhood and his genes had conspired against him ever getting that eight hours Kagome swore by. He blinked, sitting up straighter to see his surroundings.
Where was Kagome? Though he'd never admit it aloud, he was worried about her. Since Naraku had been defeated, she seemed. . . different. More withdrawn from her friends here.
Where was she?
Then he noticed what had woke him. His hand went to his throat, hoping he was wrong.
The beads were gone. She took them with her when she left.
*~**~*
Heads or Tails
Her eyes? Beautiful. Amazing. A man could live in those eyes, would she only turn them on him with hope or compassion, or, dare I suggest, love. I think her eyes are my favorite part of her whole sublime body.
But wait, what about her lips? True, they frown more often that they ought, but they are the most perfect lips when she smiles.
Split the difference then, and say her face is my favorite.
Yet my eyes fall to her swaying hips.
"Houshi-sama, where are you looking?!"
Her fist is certainly my least favorite part.
*~**~*
Stained
Inuyasha's gaze lingered on his hands. They weren't human hands. They were slimmer than most men's, the long fingers terminating in wicked claws. He had torn apart demons with them to defend himself and his friends, or to reclaim the shards of the Shikon Jewel. He had killed with his hands, until the blood seemed to seep into every pore, staining them with its fatal stink.
He wasn't sure that they ought to be allowed to touch something so precious, or so breakable.
The infant snuggled closer to her mother's breast, making a fist of her own tiny, clawed hands.
*~**~*
Downfall
This new human era. . . tired him. The grey miles of cities stretching out to forever, connected by a vast wed of concrete. It hurt his eyes. It filled his ears with the constant roar of machines. It burned his nose with the smell of ash and poison.
Once he had been the great Sesshomaru, but somewhere along the line, he had lost his drive, his spite, and in the end even the pride, which had sustained him through two centuries or more, gave out.
It was odd to think that his half-brother would outlive him.
*~**~*
A Mother's Love
Inuyasha was sleeping. Finally. Hatsuyo smiled at the sight of her baby: his scrunched, tiny face, soft body, and miniature hands and feet, with the proper number of digits apiece. She'd been worried at first when he hadn't opened his eyes to greet her, but Inutaisho had explained it was the way of Inuyoukai. She expected them to open any day. Folded flat against his skull was a pair of soft puppy ears, almost lost in his downy fringe of hair.
She felt her smile quiver and tears stung her eyes. Why couldn't anyone else see that he was perfect?
*~**~*
As You Are
Kagome looked down at her hands. They were not the firm, smooth hands of youth. Instead they were worn, rough hands, toughened with an archer's calluses and life. They were the hands of a strong, middle-aged woman.
Looking up, she sought the still young face of her hanyou lover and asked, "Why do you stay with me? I look old enough to be your mother."
"Why didn't you let me become human for you?" he asked by way of a reply.
"Because I love you the way you are," Kagome answered without hesitation.
"Same reason."
*~**~*